


Let It Fly

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: 14 Days of DA Lovers [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Qunari Culture and Customs, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Dorian decides to go and watch his boyfriend train. Things can only get better after that.
Relationships: Adaar/Dorian Pavus, Male Adaar/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Series: 14 Days of DA Lovers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631497
Kudos: 11





	Let It Fly

**Author's Note:**

> I may be a year late but I have [ made and named my Inquisitor](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com/post/643042443957272576/new-inquisitor-made-solely-for-a-fic-series-i) so that's got to count for something!

Dorian stumbled over another mound of stone, leftover from one renovation or another, and finally gave in to the urge to curse. His thoughts were scattered — trace fragments of the spell formula he had been constructing slipping free as he tried to remember them — and he only swore harder, running his fingers through his hair in his frustration.

He could feel the homesickness slip through his veins like bottled lightning, missing the ease of being able to visit the library or even just meeting a passing acquaintance’s eye and seeing they understood his struggles. Here, he was set apart from the others. 

Glancing around, he realised he had wandered from the warmth of the tower to the training grounds, the air becoming filled with the distant ringing of metal against metal. Tucking his numb fingers into the pockets of his robe, his fingers tracing the soft edge of the wrapped present in his pocket — a flush of warmth filling his chest — Dorain began to walk closer. 

Aban had slipped from their bed with the sun, pausing his careful application of vitaar to press kisses to Dorian’s grasping hands. 

“Some training first, kadan,” Aban murmured, unwilling to break the early morning hush. “Your archers couldn’t hit the broadside of a Dreadnought.”

Dorian had been unable to argue with that truly, but he had tried, a low sigh slipping free as he used Aban’s horns to tug him closer, giving him one final kiss, before Dorian settled back into sleep. His last memory of the morning before he woke to the sound of the lunch bell, was of Aban rising to his full height — his face painted in a patchwork of dark scales in an arrow formation, silver jewellery lying flat on his horns — looking like something out of a legend.

As he drew closer to the training grounds, Dorian could feel the snarl of his thoughts lessen as the sound of Aban’s voice filled the air, a steady rise and fall cadence that seemed to set the world swaying beneath his feet like he was on the deck of a ship. Arrows flew like a disjointed flock of birds, blooming from the ground and the fence posts and the straw matting, but never from the targets. 

“No.” Aban’s voice wasn’t raised, but it still carried clearly, the expectation that it would be heard clearly. “Watch.”

Dorian crossed around the corner just in time, refusing to admit that he had run the next few steps to make it. 

Aban was glorious in the golden sunlight, a faint sheen of sweat setting the corded muscles in his arms aglow. His bright eyes were narrowed in focus, a confident grin twisting his lips into something that resembled a snarl. Dorian wasn’t a religious man — he could barely remember the Chant of Light let alone the names of the venerated first followers of Andraste — but at that moment, he knew what they felt like. 

The arrow flew straight and true, hitting the centre of the target.

Aban caught Dorian’s eye, his face softening in an instant as he smiled, pressing a hand to his heart before extending it towards him. Dorian swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, the world shimmering through the film of tears in his eyes — because how could this man be his, how could he be this  _ happy _ — and repeated the gesture back to the Qunari, knowing he was in love and was loved in return.


End file.
